The Moment Mumbai Swallowed Me Whole

Photo by Vidit Goswami on Unsplash

Part One:

The Most Exhausting Flight of My Life

Part Two:

I hired a pre-paid taxi inside the airport, which one should always do if disputes over the fare are to be avoided. After long deliberation among my driver and various other drivers about how to get to the destination (the general direction, anyway), we set out.

Streets are a cacophony of movement in India. Various forms of mobility weave and mingle, forming a mass of random-looking motion. Three lanes become five, as cars, auto rickshaws, buses, ox-carts, trucks, scooters, motorcycles, and bicycles weave in and out, crowd in together, and entirely disregard the notion or existence of lanes. The vehicles don’t drive one behind the other; instead, the moving mass fits together like a large, ever-changing jigsaw puzzle, moving its way slowly forward. The noise created is deafening: engine noises of all sorts and incessant horn-blowing at a range of pitches and volumes. Bollywood music blares here and there, both from vehicles and from little vending shacks. The louder the better.